Page 18 of Love & Letter Charms
“I wonder if I could simply refuse?” she said, unable to hide the desperation in her voice.
“Oh please do!” Rosavyn replied from somewhere to her left. “How delightfully scandalous.”
“Can you imagine the High Lady’s reaction?” Mariselle said with a laugh from Aurelise’s right.
“She’d probably lock you in a tower,” Rosavyn continued. “Just think of the peace and quiet. You’d love it, Lise.”
“And the views,” Mariselle added. “Towers have the best views.”
They’d been lying here for the better part of twenty minutes, ever since Rosavyn had declared that the world looked entirely different from the floor and that contemplating one’s troubles from an altered perspective might provide clarity. Aurelise had protested initially—what if the servants saw them?—but Iris had waved away her concerns, insisting the household staff had seen far stranger things. And somehow, Aurelise had found herself sinking onto the plush carpet alongside her sister and sister-in-law.
Iris had declared, with mock-tragic solemnity, that while she dearly wished to join them on the floor, the chances of her ever regaining a vertical position were far too slim to risk it. She had draped herself across the settee instead, one hand resting on the pronounced curve of her belly.
Aurelise shifted slightly, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. Despite her exhaustion, she’d been unable to sleep properly after returning home from the Opening Ball the night before. Every time her eyes closed, she’d relived the horrifying moment her name had been called out for the Crown Court.
Time had seemed to stretch and distort, the syllables of ‘Lady Aurelise Rowanwood’ hanging in the air long after they’d been spoken. A silence had descended, not just in the room but within her, as if her body had forgotten how to function. Her lungs had seized, refusing to draw breath, and the first notes of chaotic, panicked music had begun to rise around her, strings shrieking in protest. Then her mother’s hand had found her arm, firm and steadying, and she’d managed to clamp down on the escaping magic as she finally gasped for air.
“Go forward, dear,” her mother had murmured, her voice a breath against Aurelise’s ear. “Everything will be all right.”
Somehow, her legs had carried her forward. Somehow, she hadn’t tripped on her gown or stumbled on the stairs. She’d curtsied gracefully, had murmured words of gratitude she couldn’t later recall, and had accepted the delicate fan from the High Lady’s pale hands as if the moment wasn’t fracturing her entire world.
She raised the fan now, studying it yet again. Its pale ivory sticks were worked with delicate cut-outs, curling vines and blossoms fine enough to let the light pass through, while sheer panels of silk shimmered faintly with painted blossoms. Along the slender handle, her name—Lady Aurelise Rowanwood—was engraved in tiny, damning letters. With a soft sigh, she let both hand and fan fall limply to her side.
“Perhaps if I claimed illness?” she suggested, her voice hollow. “A sudden case of … something terribly contagious but not life-threatening? Just debilitating enough to require complete isolation for, oh, the entire Season?”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Rosavyn reminded her. “You’d blush the moment anyone questioned you, and the whole scheme would unravel.”
“But I’d be confined to Rowanwood House. There would be no one to question me.” The more she thought about it, the more brilliant this plan seemed.
“Aurelise,” Iris said gently. “I don’t think you can reasonably refuse.”
Aurelise groaned, pressing a hand over her face. “But I cannot do this. I simply cannot. The very thought of spending the entire Season at Solstice Hall, being scrutinized and evaluated, dancing with and beingcourtedby that … that … flirting, winking, incorrigible?—”
“You should step on his feet,” Rosavyn supplied helpfully. “On purpose, since we all know you’d never do such a thing by accident. You’re far too graceful.”
“Oh Your Highness!” Mariselle exclaimed in a high-pitched tone that in no way resembled Aurelise’s voice. “Your royal feet were improperly positioned in my vicinity!”
Aurelise smacked her with the fan. Mariselle snorted, while Rosavyn dissolved into giggles. From the settee, Iris sighed and muttered, “You two,” though she could hardly disguise the amused affection in her voice.
“Stars above,” Aurelise moaned, a fresh wave of panic washing through her. “I’m going to step on the prince. I’m going to step on him and cause a diplomatic incident and shame the entire Rowanwood line for generations.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rosavyn said. “I’m the one shaming the entire Rowanwood line with my complete failure to manifest any magic whatsoever. That’s far worse than stepping on a prince’s toes.”
“You will manifest one day,” Mariselle said, her tone gentling into something steady and sincere. She reached across Aurelise until she found Rosavyn’s hand. “I’m convinced of it.”
Rosavyn heaved a breath, and when she spoke, her usual bravado had slipped away. “I’m not.” Then she forced a light laugh, the vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m sorry to have to say it, Lise, but I’m rather grateful for the High Lady’s announcement and all this Crown Court gossip. At least today, no one’s whispering about the middle Rowanwood daughter’s embarrassing lack of magic.”
“You would have had nothing to worry about,” Mariselle assured her, pulling her arm back. “If there was no Crown Court news today, the gossip birds would no doubt have been shrieking about the fact that my supposed soulbond vanished overnight.”
“Oh?” Rosavyn sat up and swiveled sideways. “Did it disappear, then? The mark?”
Aurelise lifted her head from the carpet, craning to see better. Even Iris leaned forward slightly from her position on the settee.
Mariselle extended her right arm, examining her hand and wrist with a puzzled expression. “Well, to anyone looking from a distance, itappearsto have vanished. That’s what we all suspected would happen.”
“‘The binding mark shall remain until such time as Dreamland stands ready to welcome visitors once more,’” Aurelise recited quietly. They had discussed this numerous times over the past year, wondering precisely when the magical contract that had originally bound Mariselle and Evryn together would consider the terms fulfilled.
“Yes, exactly,” Mariselle said. “But look closer.”
